


you starks are hard to kill

by aryastvrk



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Battle of Winterfell, F/M, Post battle of Winterfell, Spoilers 8x03, this is my first fanfic go easy on me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 16:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18664180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aryastvrk/pseuds/aryastvrk
Summary: She couldn't take it anymore. She didn't want to be No One. She wanted... needed to be Arya Stark of Winterfell. Her training would come in handy but having something... someone to fight for. To believe in. That is what made it worth it to stay as Arya Stark.[aftermath of the Battle of Winterfell. Jon + Arya reunion after the battle]**sibling relationship, not romantic**





	you starks are hard to kill

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is my first time writing a fanfiction but i had a lot of inspiration! so here is this piece of weird trash. it has not been edited, so sorry for any grammatical mistakes.

As the sound of warfare slowly quieted and transitioned into cheers of joy, her brown eyes were squeezed shut. Her hands shook while she couldn't register what had occurred moments before. She shouldn't be here. She shouldn't be alive, she had  _expected_  to be gone. To die.

"We Stark's are hard to kill." Bran's voice interrupted the silence that surrounded the weirwood tree. "That cannot be denied, sister."

Arya let her eyes flutter open as she stared at her brother. She did not know what to say, how to reply to what Bran had said. But, she said only what was true. "Robb, Mother, Father, little Rickon. We are not truly hard to kill, half our family is gone."

"That may be true, but are they truly dead?" 

Arya didn't respond.

After minutes of a comfortable silence, she let out a sigh. "Did you know that it would play out like this, Bran?"

"I thought you would go to King's Landing. When you arrived here, I knew what you would do. I gave you the dagger for a reason, Arya."

"What if-"

" _What ifs_  are useless.  _What is_  is what we must focus on, now."

Once again, Arya did not know what to say. Yet she pondered over his words. She supposed he was right, but she did not fully agree.  _What ifs_  can help prepare you, but they may also burden one. She took this chance to finally capture her surroundings. 

Bodies and bodies lay around her, she didn't recognize any body until she landed on the one with half a spear through his stomach. Although never close with him, she felt regret in her stomach. Yet another ghost she never said goodbye to. Theon Greyjoy. 

"What is dead may never die." She whispered under her breathe, taking a moment to mourn yet another ghost.

"Born a Greyjoy. Died a Stark." Bran concluded, nodding slowly. Arya turned to face Bran once again, smiling slightly at his words. Suddenly, a sharp pain arose in her neck and she let out a groan at its abruptness. As she was about to put her hand on her neck, as if that would help, Bran stopped her. "Do not, sister, it will only make the pain worse."

As she was about to respond, she heard branches snapping in the distance. She turned abruptly, getting lightheaded as she did so. She listened closely to the steps, realizing who it was. Jon Snow limped slowly over to the weirwood tree, trying to get there quickly with his injuries. 

"Bran.." He rasped out, not yet noticing his younger sister. "You are alive, but how?"

His eyes scanned over all the bodies, lingering on Theon for a couple of moments before nodding his head in respect for the deceased man.

For the deceased warrior.

"Theon... did he?" Jon asked, his eyes distant. "He was a good man."

Bran stared at Jon with his emotionless gaze before speaking, "No,  _she_  did."

"She? Who-" Jon proceeded to ask before noticing the small figure that sat beside Bran. "Arya.."

Arya looked up at the mention of her name, her eyes were blank, similar to Bran's. She did not speak and that was all Jon needed to know to confirm it. His eyes flickered over to the small dagger that Arya had clenched in her small hands. The dagger looked rather familiar. He did not dwell on that, as he needed to see if his siblings were alright. He stepped closer to Arya and Bran, shock evident in his eyes, but Arya knew he was proud of her. 

She couldn't take it anymore. She didn't want to be  _No One._ She wanted...  _needed_  to be Arya Stark of Winterfell. Her training would come in handy but having something... someone to fight for. To believe in. That is what made it worth it to stay as Arya Stark. 

She got up as quickly as her injuries allowed her and she threw herself at her brother. Not half-brother, but brother. "I stuck him with the pointy end, brother." She told him as she wrapped her arms around him. "For that was all it took to bring down to mighty Night King."

She heard a chuckle escape his lips, but she knew that what he was about to say was not going to be a joke. 

"How?"

This time it was Bran who spoke, "How is not important, but this has been her destiny. If you really seek the answer to know how she did it, you must learn what she had learned. Seen what she has seen. The answer is rather difficult to explain, it is an art."

"An art." Arya repeated, not sure whether she wanted to believe it or not. An art was beautiful, something many would take joy in seeing. Arya considered revenge an art form. Others may not enjoy watching it, but Arya took pride in it. She knew she had avenged her Mother and Brother.

Jon chose not to respond to those words, but rather express what he was feeling. "I thought you were dead, Arya. Gone in the midst of battle, the She-Wolf of Winterfell. If you vanished tonight, I would never forgive myself. For I could have protected you. You can say you do not need protection, but everyone does, Arya. Even I need protection, sister."

After a few beats of silence, Arya spoke again. "Father needed protection. Sansa needed protection. Mother, Robb, Rickon... I did need protection, no matter how much I denied it. I received it when I did not deserve it... I wish Father was still here."

Jon wasn't sure as to what he wanted to say to her last sentence, but he looked up at the sky and said, "I wish so, too."

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading this! any suggestions in the comments are greatly appreciated, so are reviews!


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